


Misery

by MyAngelInATARDIS



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sad, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyAngelInATARDIS/pseuds/MyAngelInATARDIS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Reichenbach Fall, Before Season 3. SAD JOHN!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gone

Gone. Yes, gone. Sherlock Holmes was gone. Dead. Forever most likely. John sank to the ground. He felt suddenly sick, and dizzy. Sherlock Holmes was dead. He could not wrap his head around the thought that his best friend, and sociopath, he might add, was dead. Goodbye, John. Three hours and two ambulances later, those words still rang in his head. This is my note. His note?! Sherlock Holmes, the man who saved John Watson, helped him recover from PTSD, helped John get a life outside of therapy- leaves a NOTE?  
This was not his Sherlock, the one who solves murders and has no friends except John and brings John along on his cases (even though he’s mostly utterly useless) and genuinely enjoys puzzling cases- This was not his Sherlock!

Standing outside 221B, Baker, John was on his knees in front of the door shaking from hurt and anger. Mrs.Hudson came out, gasped and hurriedly tried to pull him inside to probably make tea for him, but John wasn't paying attention, for Sherlock Holmes is dead. John hadn't talked to the police, or the medical examiners, or Lestrade, or Mycroft, or anyone, because Sherlock Holmes is dead.

John was suddenly aware that he was inside, also very suddenly aware that his Military instincts had kicked in to drag him upstairs without falling or shuddering anymore. He was a soldier, after all. It suddenly hit him, very hard, how empty the flat was. It did not have any sounds in it. No gunshots being fired at the wall, no Violin being played, no clinking of glass to prove that Sherlock was experimenting again, no coffee maker on, no tea kettle on, no sounds of Sherlock that John had grown used to hearing. No Sherlock.  
John couldn't do this. He couldn't go into the flat to find that there was and would never be any Sherlock in there ever again. He stepped outside. He closed the door. He walked down stairs. He let his Military side take over, because if he didn't, he might break again. He stepped outside into the cold night air, and took a cab far away from Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Hazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been one year since Sherlock's death. Is John coping?

Hazy. If John Watson had to pick one word to describe what the last year had been like, he would describe it as hazy. Sherlock Holmes had been dead for one full year. One full year of painful therapy, adapting to a new flat (because John couldn’t go back to 221B), and getting his life back on track without Sherlock.

Sherlock. Oh how John couldn't go one day even without thinking about his best friend, and how he was now dead. John had thought over this one year, all the things that had been said after Sherlock’s death, and how if, Sherlock were here, would think they were utter horse crap. John himself had chosen his words very carefully when he visited Sherlock’s grave.

{ You told me once, that you weren’t a hero. Sometimes I didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this… You were the best man and the most human.... human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And so... there. I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this..}

Okay, when John did look back on his little speech to Sherlock, he did think Sherlock would have laughed a little. Maybe more than a little, it was Sherlock we’re talking about.   
But now, Sherlock is dead. And would stay dead, forever. Sure, Sherlock was smart (okay, really smart) but no one, not even Sherlock Holmes, could elude death. Not the way Sherlock died.  
And besides, it wasn’t like John’s whole world revolved around Sherlock. In fact, he had met someone, this year, and were currently going on dates and doing couple like things. Mary is pretty nice, actually. John thought he hit a jackpot with her. She was everything John needed and wanted. Except Sherlock, but no one could take the blogger on adventures like the consulting detective did. Even now John missed Sherlock. Maybe he always would. I mean, who get’s to go on adventures like the one he went on because of Sherlock? John had barely went back to 221B after Sherlock’s death, usually tending to sent Mrs.Hudson up to get his things, or Mycroft (though rarely Mycroft). For when John left, on the night Sherlock had died, he had never intended to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to write it anyways:) This chapter is tricky to write, because you can't be too specific to what John is doing at the time, but I hope you like it!


	3. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years of Sherlock Holmes being dead...

John Watson was not depressed. John Watson had a flat that he loved, a job that he loved, and a girl that he loved, therefore he was not depressed. Two years. John would keep counting the days, the years, and the months, since Sherlock Holmes had died. But, for now, only two years had passed.  
Mary had heard a little about him. The guy that John mentions something about when something exciting happens, or even dangerous. The infamous Sherlock Holmes. Mary wasn’t stupid, of course she had done her own research on this particular man. She hadn’t come across any pictures, but she did know that Sherlock had committed suicide, because he was pretending to be a fake genius, and had made up dozens of cases just to keep up the act. Mary was a little concerned for her boyfriend, but seeing as he was still recovering from the loss, left him alone about it.   
John, on the other hand, was not thinking about Sherlock Holmes. Definitely not. All right, yes he was. But John knew that, instead of dwelling on his death, he should think about the fun memories of him. And so he did. Even when Lestrade came by with a box of Sherlock’s stuff from the police department, John only thought about the good things he knew came out of Sherlock’s life. It wasn’t until John put a tape of bloopers of Sherlock’s on did he actually talk to himself. “What do I do?” Sherlock’s voice rang out across the silent flat, kind of scratchy from the CD. “I can tell you what you can do. You can stop being dead.” John answered him, smiling sadly to himself as he took a swig of his scotch. The door rang at that moment and the video had to be paused, and sadly, never watched by John Watson again.  
But, after John had left the room, without him realizing it, the CD unpaused itself, because of an improper TV wire. Sherlock continued his little speech to a quiet, empty room. “Ok… Hello, John. I’m sorry i’m not there at the moment, I’m very busy. However, many happy returns. Oh, and don’t worry, I am going to be with you again, very soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended this one on a kind of hopeful note:) It was Kinda tricky to write this one because it rounds the rest of the story off. This is where my story ends and Season 3 begins..... Hope you like it:)

**Author's Note:**

> IDK if I should write the other two chapters or not. I guess if many people want them I will but if not this is just a short drabble:)


End file.
